


ichiruki month 2k18///

by zfic



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, IchiRuki Month, IchiRuki Month 2018, Ichiruki, ichiruki 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 20:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zfic/pseuds/zfic
Summary: prompts for ichiruki month 2018





	1. day 1

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!!! the prompts are available on tumblr <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .*°·.*a fantasy universe.*°·.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fae!rukia and bountyhunter!ichigo

“Fine,” Rukia muttered, looking over her shoulder at him and dropping the back of her tunic, “just because you won’t shut the hell up, otherwise.”

Ichigo gulped. He visibly, stupidly, gulped as his eyes roamed over her bare skin. “I knew it.”

“I know you knew it. Everyone knows you knew it, gods.” She huffed, more annoyed with her back arching of its own accord beneath his gaze than actually at him.

But he didn’t say anything in reply. No quip, no angry word in edgewise. He just…kept looking.

“Have you finished?” Rukia snapped, keeping her head ducked to conceal the blush rising across her cheeks.

She heard him drop his sword, then heard his approaching steps creaking along the loose floorboards of the inn they had taken shelter in for the night.

Rukia held her breath. Not out of fear, no. At that point, the trust they had developed over the past week was too strong to fear proximity. Anticipation and expectation, however, the roots of, she was loathe to admit, desire, were entirely different matters altogether.

“If you’re really a fae, if you’re really a royal,” he said, his voice careful in his uncertainty, “where is your birth mark?”

As usual, his actions and his words did not match. Ichigo, in his own contrary manner, dragged a rough knuckle down the curve of her back, his breath hitching when he reached the base of her spine, where the mark of the fae was scorched into her skin.

Rukia trusted, with her back bare and open to him, that he wouldn’t hurt her. The he wouldn’t betray her.

But she should have paid more attention to trusting herself, first.

Because when his palm flattened against her hip, when he dared press his dry lips to the curve of her shoulder and follow the pulse within her throat, when he asked again, “Where is your birth mark, Rukia?”

She gave him the answers to all.


	2. day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .*°·.*a crossover.*°·.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bleach//darling in the franxx crossover

“Ichigo?”

“Mmmm…”

She gasps, her hand flying to her side as she attemps to hold the pain at bay. Rukia says his name again, stronger this time, forcing herself through unconsciousness, “Ichigo!

Behind her, Ichigo’s eyes snap open and he immediately begins to cough, the seering heat in his chest making the room spin.

Slowly, Rukia sits up, managing to twist just enough to get her leg over the pilots seat and stumble to her feet. She just about makes it over to his pod and grips his shoulder, steadying him, "Ichigo, stop. You’re in shock, please, you’re fine. You’re fine.”

But her voice breaks and she isn’t sure she’s entirely telling him the truth, that she’s even kidding herself into thinking he’s alright.

He’s not.

Rukia saw what was in his head when the behemoth rose from over the horizon. She saw Ichigo’s mother limp in the arms of his father in the midst of their wrecked Franxx, Burning Engetsu. 

She saw the relief team resorting to taking the couple away on the same stretcher, because they couldn’t take Masaki from Isshin and they didn’t have the heart to try.

Rukia saw the young Ichigo’s pain, his hurt, his loneliness, as his parents were carried into the infirmary right in front of him. She felt his regret and his weakness and the trauma of it all like a sliver of ice cut through his chest and dig his heart out. He should have told them not to go. He shouldn’t have told them he was scared. He should have told them to stay.

Adults were no longer permitted to pilot Franxx. And the Parasite programme was commissioned.

Indeed, the Franxx were stronger now, faster, powerful beyond belief, Sode no Shirayuki being no exception. Engetsu had been in alpha stages when it had fallen, too young to take on a Mohorovic-class klaxosaur, despite its speed and alloyed armour. 

But when Rukia recognised the kind of rage that filled Ichigo, the rage that sought redemption as much as it did revenge, she closed her eyes and let him charge the beast.

Fury burned through her veins, white hot and focused. He wanted to hurt it, hurt it in a fraction of the way it had hurt him. Its ugly blue face, scarred from the last battle they both seemed to have fought, would never grace this broken earth again.

And Rukia let him.

By the end of it, Sode no Shirayuki lay in a puddle of the beast’s blue blood and they passed out.

So when he turns his face to her, one eye swollen shut and a bruise the size of her fist purpling his opposite cheek, he smiles. Thank you, Rukia.

She places hand to the side of his neck, appreciating the fast pulse beneath his skin, and smiles back. It’s over, now.


	3. day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .*°·.*a historical au.*°·.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timetraveller!rukia

“Are you hurt?”

Dazed, Rukia blinked.

Then squinted because the stranger helping her up was in front of direct sunlight, the rays catching the ends of his light coloured hair, shadow obscuring his features.

Rukia took his proferred hand, sitting up and using him as leverage to stand, “I’m…” She looked about her, trying to make sense of what happened.

He gently removed his hand from hers and bowed his head slightly, as if understanding her confusion, “You were thrown from your horse,” He explained gently, “my friend managed to calm it before it ran off.”

She looked up at him again, her violet eyes finally adjusting to the light.

When they did, her heart dropped to her stomach, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling, “Oh, gods.” She breathed, taking a step back as her eyes filled with tears.

“Miss?” He asked, beautiful eyes, sad eyes, full of concern, “Do you feel faint?”

Rukia shook her head, her tight bun falling loose and down her neck. Her hand flew to her lips, “Gods, you’re…”

He reached out to touch her arm, the ungloved one, and somehow his fingers found his way to her palm, pressing his rough thumb to the centre of it. It’s familiar pressure anchored her, despite the confusion in his eyes, “Miss?”

“You’re here.”

He tilted his head, considering her words, “Yes…?”

Rukia looked down at their hands and noticed that the cuff of her dress-sleeves were unripped, unsuspecting of the violence that would ensue in the coming days. She met his eyes once more, “When the time comes,” She said through gritted teeth, “Don’t you dare save me.”


	4. day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .*°·.*a college au.*°·.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ ʖ ͡° )

Rukia pulled his hair because she liked pulling his hair, not because he did.

The desk beneath her was hard and she admitted that his large hand reaching beneath her to cup her bottom and pull her closer to him was appreciated. She moaned her thanks into his mouth and tightened her legs around his hips.

Earlier, as they sat through their lecture, Ichigo had insisted on putting his hand on her thigh, right by the hem of her skirt. He touched enough skin to satisfy him for that time being, but certainly not enough to satisfy her. She shifted her leg, trying to silently encourage him to move higher, just enough to feel that callous at the base of his index finger against the softness of her skin.

He decided to slump forward in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him, and slipping his entire arm between her legs.

Gods, he’s so annoying.

They had just managed to squeeze themselves into a supply closet at the back of the room, greedy hands groping at anything they could find, bodies pressed flush together.

Rukia pulled his hair because she liked pulling his hair.

And because the way he ground his hips into her was heaven

And because his mouth was sweet against hers and hot pressed into her neck.

And because his hands cupped and roamed and pinched, pinched, her in places he knew she couldn’t help but arch her back like that, sigh like that, kiss him back like that.

And when he knelt in front of her, pitched her against the narrow wall and sought out her centre, he knew he could get her to cry out like that, too.


	5. day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .*°·.*a future/futuristic au.*°·.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spacepilot!ichigo and captain!kuchiki

“How does it feel?”

Ichigo nodded as he tested his newly installed bionic arm out, flexing his fingers,  _out-in-out-in,_ and listening to the minuscule gears work to satisfy his subconscious demands. “It feels…” He trailed off, “Like an arm, I guess, but…not?”

“I know,” Rukia agreed, scribbling some notes down behind her clipboard, “It won’t be easy to get used to and it will take some time. I-” She stopped herself, remembering the week before last, just before he went into surgery, how he asked with a small smile spread across his bruised face,  _Don’t beat yerself up about it_.

“Hey.” He murmured, brushing the hair from her face with his real hand, the warm one with scarred palms and calloused fingers. The hand holding  _memories,_ not carbon and circuitry and valves pumping lifeless blood in an imitation of what once was. Ichigo’s thumb ran across her cheekbone, tan against her porcelain skin, “What’d I say?”

Rukia sighed, “I know what you said.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, rubbing against it and nuzzling their noses together, “Oi, Captain Kuchiki.” He smiled, “Dontcha know the best pilots in the whole  _damn_ quadrant get bionics at some point or another?”

Rukia ran her fingers through his choppy orange hair, “Yeah, not  _you_.”

Ichigo laughed and kissed her, “You can’t protect me all the time, Ruks.”

“I can try.”

Another laugh, this time pulling her closer as he did so, “Aw, Cap.” He glanced down at his new arm and waggled his fingers, “S’not so bad.”

When Rukia looked at him, she watched him slide his amber eyes over to her and grin, tightening his other arm around his waist, “Do I have cannons?”

“No,” she huffed, but a smile was pulling at the corner of her mouth, “You don’t have cannons.”

“Lasers?”

“No lasers.”

“Bullets.”

“Nope.” She plonked her clipboard down onto the top of his head with a soft thud, “You have a thermometer.”

Wincing with one eye closed, he pouted, “That’s fuckin’ lame.”

Rukia rolled her eyes and walked off, “ _Good_.”


	6. day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .°·.a supernatural au.°·.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vampire au

_“Just,” she whispered against the shell of his ear, the softness of her body pressed against his back, “jump.”_

Ichigo woke with a start, expecting to feel his heart beating hard from the sheer  _realness_  of the lucid dream. But when he clutched at his chest, looked down as if he’d see it pumping blood through his veins, he felt nothing.

Outside, he knew by instinct, was dark. Night had fallen.

But he could see  _everything,_ and hear much more.

The beating of a crows wings beyond the shuttered windows, the details of the fine fractures in the porcelain basin beneath the mirror opposite his bed, the crackle of a fire he was sure came from the house across the road from his own.

And, with undisputed doubt, he knew he was hungry.

He dragged the tip of his tongue along the edges of his teeth, catching the flesh against his elongated incisor.

Ichigo got out of bed, unhinged his shutters and opened his windows. He took a breath he didn’t need, and jumped.

“Rukia.”

She turned, smiling up at him like she had a secret she couldn’t wait to tell him. Ichigo bit his lip,  _she probably does_.

“Ready?” Rukia stood, lithe and elegant, poised as perfectly as she would standing on the street. Not, he mused, at the top of a five storey building, to left of which rolled an angry sea, salty waves crashing against the cliff face.

He remembered his dream, though it was more a collection of memories than anything his mind could fabricate.

_Ichigo, dying._

_Then, her bite, the pressure of her hand against his chest, the brush of her cool hair against his cheek._

_The sensation of flying. Of being faster than any bird, any animal. Looking back and meeting her violet eyes, orbs of mischief, as they vaulted through the night._

_Their undeniable desire manifesting in the back room of an inn they had broken into. Too desperate to touch, to taste, to care where they had landed. As long as they had each other there and then._

_Rukia’s hand against his chest again, parting the opening of his loose shirt. He met her question, ‘Where did the scar come from?’ with pulling down the strap of her negligee and asking her, ‘Where did_ yours  _come from?’._

_The top of a building, the city at their feet._

_“Just,” she whispered against the shell of his ear, the softness of her body pressed against his back, “jump.”_

Ichigo smiled back, showing off his fangs, “Lead the way.”


End file.
